Imagine Emma & Regina
by L. J. McMahon
Summary: A Swan Queen story based on the Fox Searchlight film Imagine Me & You. Not a crossover per se. Rating is "T" currently but might become an "M" depending on later chapters and on how far you want the characters to go when the original film was only a PG13 rating.


**A/N: This was inspired by a prompt from **_**talkswithherhands **_**and general interest. The original prompt was for Emma to be Rachael, Regina to be Luce and Neal to be Hec and I planned on doing it that way but then I saw this video watch?v=rtgKd-hxWB4 and was really inspired. So now Rachael is Regina and Luce is Emma, Hook is Hec. I'm so sorry but the video totally changed my view. I hope you all still like it. Don't throw the baby out with the bath water! You might find that you enjoy this version. Let me know by review or PM. In this story there is no Henry because, I just didn't feel he fit in anywhere. Neal will be Hook's best friend, Mary-Margret is not literally Emma's mother but she does represent a maternal figure. It is "T" right now but, might become "M" based on later chapters and how far you think the characters should go considering the movie was only PG13. Enjoy!**

Death and Marriage

The funeral parlor was dim and generic with grey carpets and blank walls. Everyone stood around the open mahogany casket, wearing black with their eyes cast down in mourning. Mary-Margret Blanchard Nolan was trying to contain her flamboyant sobs while David, her husband, clutched her shoulder uncomfortably. Isabelle "Belle" Francis looked at her dead father with a solemn smile and a glimmering fondness in her sad eyes. Meanwhile, Emma Swan was staring at her feet, trying desperately not to laugh. Little did she know, the woman next to her was trying to avoid the same thing as her handsome boyfriend looked at her curiously.

Most funerals had roses and lilies but, Moe had taught Emma well. He had trained her for years until her thumb was green as the summer grass and he always told her the meaning of all the flowers. She had chosen some orange helenium with yellow golden rod to accent it. Lilies and roses were funeral flowers—although she loved them—and no one should have funeral flowers at their funeral. That would be such a bore and it would make the whole event smell like death. She had seen it before, selling flowers with Moe, people smell lilies or roses and they comment that it smelled like when their grandfather died. Moe wouldn't have wanted that. The flowers she chose managed to brighten up the dank hall and they were in season, just on the cusp of fall. They were hearty, natural and wild, just like life.

It didn't matter how much effort Emma had put into the floral arrangements, however, because the whole of Storybrooke would remember Moe as a circus clown. Ruby Lucas, the local beautician had put so much blush on the dead man's cheeks that he looked like a particularly pale drag queen. As such, Emma had been biting her lip trying to contain giggles for most of the Pastor's "better place" speech.

Regina Mills looked up from her heels and momentarily looked at the body. She quickly snapped her head back down and regretted having looked. Moe's face was ridiculous. Her neck was beginning to hurt but, she knew when she looked elsewhere it would have to be at anything but Moe Francis. She wondered who stood to her right side. She looked over.

The wind was knocked from her lungs at the sight before her. How had she not seen her before? Was she from Storybrooke? Perfect blonde curls framed the strong shoulders of the most beautiful woman Regina had ever seen. Her shocking green eyes stared awkwardly at her dirty boots that she was clapping together nervously. She was dressed in jeans and a vest, hardly appropriate for a funeral but, Regina thought she looked gorgeous anyway. Gorgeous and, she reluctantly thought, sexy. Had she just thought of another woman as sexy? Not just sexy, breathtaking.

Emma felt eyes on her and she looked up to them. Her mouth fell open. Strict, dark, brown hair circled the prettiest, olive-skinned woman she had ever seen.

Just as Emma was starting to get lost in the melted chocolate pools that were the woman's eyes, Regina regained her breath and whispered "Who did the makeup?"

Emma snapped to attention. "Sorry, what?"

"His makeup. It looks nice. Do you know who did it?" Regina smiled kindly.

"Oh…um…yeah…um Ruby, she's our beautician."

"Right Ruby," she nodded, "of course."

"I think it's a bit much…," Emma leaned in a commented conspiratorially.

Regina smiled dumbly. "She could have cut back on the blush."

Emma couldn't contain a snort and she slapped her hand to her mouth before it could go any further. Both women blushed. "Mm," she finally agreed.

They were both having trouble keeping more appropriate looks of sorrow on their face. Instead their smiles just grew.

"I fear he will get to the pearly-gates," Regina joked, "and God will ask him to be the late night entertainment." And that was it.

"Moe now leaves behind his lovely daughter—"

" .Ha!" The women's uncontained laughter cut off the droning pastor.

They were both leaned over clutching their guts and giggling like school girls. Ian Jones, Regina's boyfriend looked at them in confusion and endearment while Mary-Margret looked at her former roommate in embarrassment. Everyone was staring at them, including the pastor who had stopped his eulogy. It took a good ten seconds before the women noticed the commotion they'd caused.

When they finally did they both shut-up like children who had been caught doing something bad.

"Sorry," Regina began.

"Yeah, sorry," Emma nodded.

The pastor looked personally affronted. "Sorry, Archie," Regina giggled at his look before she could continue, "we just, it's not you…"

"It was," Emma jumped in, "just, blush and…late night entertainment…and heaven," she was failing miserably.

"We're sorry," Regina stated decidedly.

"Yes. Very sorry."

Finally, after a few more agonizing moments of silence, Archie Hopper continued his speech about Moe. But, Regina and Emma couldn't help looking at each other through their peripheral vision and smiling.

**X**

Once most of the procession had exited the parlor and headed toward the cemetery Emma stood in the parking lot rocking on her heals and thinking about her old friend. Regina, walking arm-in-arm with Ian managed to catch her before she began walking to her car.

She squinted in the bright afternoon sun and came around to face Emma who looked up to her.

She smiled. "How did you know Moe?"

"I'll go round and get the car," Ian said as he ran off.

"He was my mentor, sort of."

"Oh."

"How did you?"

"Oh well, I try to make it a habit to attend the funeral of any of my patrons that pass. We are a small town, I hardly need to be detached and untouchable."

Emma gaped. She swallowed to re-coat her dry mouth. "You…you're Regina Mills, the mayor?"

"Yes," she nodded kindly.

"I…I'm sorry, I just, I…I know who you are—"

"You're from Storybrooke?"

"Yeah…I know who you are I just…I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you."

"It's fine," she laughed, "my face is hardly on the money. But, I do try to stay connected." She reached out her hand.

Emma stared at it a moment too long before shaking it. "Emma Swan."

"I'm surprised I haven't met you before. I thought I'd known everyone."

"I like to keep to myself," she shrugged.

Regina sighed and thought to herself about her upcoming wedding. Emma tilted her head curiously.

"Moe was supposed to do the arrangements for my wedding next week," she explained, "it's selfish of me to be thinking about it right now. But, I'm not sure who to talk to about flowers now maybe—"

"Me." Emma tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Regina was the mayor and she was getting married. _Snap out of it, Swan._

"Oh," she brightened, "I thought maybe Belle."

"She was never really interested in Moe's business, so when I came to Storybrooke he trained me."

"I see. Well," she looked over her shoulder at Ian sitting in the idling car, "that's a relief. I guess…um," she gestured to Emma, "you have the order."

"It should be in my book."

Regina loved the way the cool air condensed and danced out of her lungs, between her pink lips. She could stare at those lips forever. "Good…so," she turned awkwardly toward the car, "I should—"

"Yeah."

"I'll…um…I'll see you at the cemetery."

"Mm," Emma shook her head, "not really my thing, wilting flowers, grass that's green for all the wrong reasons," she shrugged.

"Oh, well, I'll see you next week then?"

"See you then," she smiled. Regina went to join her fiancé in the car and Emma's heart began to beat again once they pulled away.

She couldn't like an engaged woman, she couldn't like the mayor.

**X**

"What are these then?" Regina asked pointing to the flowers that sat as center-pieces on the reception tables.

"Just mums," Emma answered. "We are outdoors so I needed to choose a fall flower that could handle the temperature.

"They're beautiful, I'm glad I decided to leave the choices in Moe's hands, well yours, when I placed the order. I don't know much about flowers."

"Well you must have a favorite flower?"

"No I—"

Regina was cut off when Ian grabbed her arm and turned her around into a kiss. Her white dress spun around her like a princess. "Come and dance," he said drunk and enthusiastic.

"Okay," she laughed. She glanced at Emma in apology before she was dragged away.

**X**

Regina had asked Emma to stay the rest of the reception, to keep an eye on the flowers of course.

She felt very out of place in her work clothes and amongst the residents of Storybrooke who, save for Mary-Margret and Ruby, she seldom talked to. She stood to the side mostly and watched Regina say "hello" to her guests. Her smile was unbelievably beautiful. She noticed an orange mum with a broken stem and as she moved to pluck it from the vase she didn't see Regina head for the punch.

When she looked up she saw the most ridiculous sight, Regina peering into the bowl of punch and stirring it with the ladle like a witch concocting a potion.

"What are you doing?" She came up behind her.

"Oh," she turned around, "Emma. I…I was getting some punch and I happened to…."

Emma nodded encouragingly.

"Well, I dropped my ring," she pointed to the liquid, "in there."

Emma couldn't help smirking. "How on earth did you do that?" she scoffed.

"I don't know it just slipped off…," she said defensively.

"Hide me." Emma moved toward the punch.

"What?"

Emma rolled up her sleeve and reached toward the bowl. "Hide me," she repeated.

"I can't believe this," Regina laughed. She turned around and shielded Emma from view.

Emma reached in, felt for the ring and snagged it. She pulled Regina's hand toward her and placed the ring back where it belonged.

Regina examined it and smiled before turning back to Emma and breaking out in a fit of giggles. It seemed she couldn't contain herself around this woman. "Thank you," she said between gasps.

Emma laughed with her.

Ian looked across the room to see his new wife and the florist leaning on each other and cracking-up. He smiled and began to approach them.

"Who's this then?" he interrupted.

Regina looked up to him and pulled him close. "Ian…this is Emma Swan, she's the new Moe!"

"Ah, so you are responsible for these lovely flowers?"

"Yes."

"Well, a great job," he commended. He reached out his hand and she shook it kindly.

No wonder Regina liked him, he was such a bright personality.

"Pleasure. You're a lucky man, Ian."

"I know," he agreed.

**X**

When most of the guests had left and Emma was packing up the dying flowers Ian grabbed her attention.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?" she looked up.

"I was wondering…well, would you…maybe like to have dinner with me and Regina next week?"

Emma knew she shouldn't agree, she knew she needed to stop seeing the mayor because the more she did the more she liked her and the more she wanted her.

He noticed her hesitation. "It's just…you two seem to be getting on quite well and any friend of my fianc—wife is a friend of mine. You two have a great time together already and you've barely just met."

She couldn't say no to the benevolent man and what was more, she couldn't contain the hope his words gave her. He said, more or less, that his wife _enjoyed _her company."

"Sure," she finally agreed.

"Brilliant!" Ian beamed.

**X**

A few days after the wedding, Emma found herself knocking on her former roommate's door.

"Emma," Mary-Margret smiled.

"Hey."

She followed her through to the kitchen and sat down as school teacher made tea. "Is David in?"

"No he's just left on a call, Granny's cat is stuck in the tree outside the diner again."

"The riveting life of Storybrooke's sheriff," she commented as Mary-Margret set the tea down and joined her.

"So, what's been going on in your life?"

She sighed and wrapped her hands around the mug. "I've got a bit of a crush."

"Really? Who?" she asked excitedly. "It's about time."

"Gee, thanks. And, don't get too excited, she's taken."

"Who is she? Who's taken her?"

"It's…nobody you know."

Mary-Margret didn't believe her for a second. "Emma…"

"It's…it's the mayor."

"Emma!" she scolded.

"I know, I know," she put her hand up.

"She's with that nice fisherman…what's his name…Killian Jones."

"Ian and he's a boat captain."

She shrugged. "Potato, potah-toh."

Emma rolled her eyes and took a steady sip of her tea as she stewed over her predicament.

"Well, you're just gonna have to forget it."

"I know."

"Good."

"I'm having dinner with them next Saturday," she blurted out.

"What?!"

Emma cringed.

"With both of them?"

"Yeah, Ian invited me."

"You need to cancel."

"What?! No!"

Mary-Margret stared at her harshly.

"That would just be rude!"

"So is lusting after another man's wife."

"I can always count on you to make me feel better…," she picked up her tea and blew on it.

"You can always count on me to tell you when you're acting like a total twat. You are digging a hole you won't be able to get out of. I'm just trying to protect you."

"I know."

She tilted her head at Emma.

"Look…I'm just gonna go to dinner and that will be it."

Mary-Margret just pursed her lips in disbelief as they continued to drink their tea.


End file.
